


Lesser

by CaptainCassidy



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dubious Consent, Loss of Control, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Restraints
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 08:14:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21115571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainCassidy/pseuds/CaptainCassidy
Summary: Without the Tyrant, Fabron is only human.





	Lesser

Fabron’s throat stretched uncomfortably around Wesker’s cock, forcing a gag from the weaker man. He couldn’t clamp his jaw, couldn’t cough or choke, just accept that he was being face-fucked by-- for all intents and purposes-- his better.

Wesker’s gloved hand gripped his hair with such force that he thought it may be torn out, the tyrant rough and careless with his little human _ cocksleeve. _He could care less if the man suffocated. The taller blonde was an indifferent, imposing beast that had earned the highest honors among Umbrella before his betrayal.

He struggled, the rope binding his hands behind his back biting into the skin of his wrists. Without those gloves, that helmet-- without _ Umbrella_, he was just another pathetic human, seen as nothing but vermin to the verile god who chose to put him in his place. It was hard to find fault in his actions; Fabron was, after all, simply a cheap imitation in comparison.

He’d felt so powerful controlling a tyrant, so in control in a way he’d never thought possible. At his call the monster would crush skulls, tear through flesh, and toss aside vehicles like they were nothing. It had made him comfortable, _ cocky. _ And when it mattered most, Fabron was caught off his guard. Perhaps that’s what made the men different; his folly could kill him, while Wesker’s…

Fabron was torn from his thoughts as he suddenly found himself slammed into the tyrant’s pubic mound, his nose pressed firmly against blonde curls. He struggled, thrashing pathetically beneath an iron grasp, desperate to pull away. He needed to breathe, his throat was constricting painfully as it tried to remove the object within.

Only when he thought he might pass out was it yanked out of his mouth, allowing him a moment of reprise. He shamelessly gasped for air, sunglasses falling askew on his face and drool dribbling down his chin. He must’ve looked like a perfect little slut, nearly choking to death on the cock of a man who was deemed genetically _ perfect _ by Spencer himself.

He was abruptly yanked back against the other’s cock, his nose and mouth forcibly pressed into its base. It would be poor form to hesitate, he thought, immediately sticking out his tongue to run it over his shaft. Wesker seemed content to allow him to do this, giving him some freedom to move despite not letting go of his hair.

Fabron ran his tongue up along the eight inch cock, then back down before kissing the base. He sucked at it as if trying to give it a hickie, only to watch any further reddening of the skin immediately vanish. Wesker healed so quickly that he couldn’t even _ bruise _… though he’d look good with several around his cock, Fabron was certain. Maybe a few more places, too, after he beat the shit out of him.

Wesker tugged him by the hair back to the tip, Fabron immediately opening his mouth like the good little _ dog _ he was. He was just a servant, practical and efficient though he may have been. When Umbrella needed a cleanup crew, he was called. That was all he was good for, in their eyes. And in Wesker’s, he wasn’t even worth that.

His sunglasses were suddenly snatched off his face and crushed in Wesker’s hand. The pieces fell and clattered onto the ground weakly, as if the brand had been cheap. It hadn’t been. Fabron had spent a lot of money on those.

“You know your place, now, don’t you?” Wesker finally growled, leaning down as he pushed the other further onto his cock. Fabron sucked willingly, forcing himself to keep his eyes upturned towards his better. The tyrant still towered above him, fully clothed, and, standing as if to infer that he didn’t _ have _ to sit; as if Fabron couldn’t do anything that might break his endurance. He absolutely couldn’t, but it was still humiliating to know.

His muffled, choked response was met with a dark chuckle.

“Good. Now, _ swallow. _”

He knew what that meant, but still wasn’t ready. Fabron was pushed right back up against his pubes, Wesker’s cock so far down his throat he couldn’t even gag on his release. His cock throbbed as he came down his throat, each pulse pumping to much into him. He couldn’t swallow, it was too far down his throat to be necessary, but he felt every bit of it slide down into his stomach. The thought disgusted him, though the crotch of his trousers were strained.

It took too long, and even when he was done, Wesker still chose to keep him there. When he pulled him away he was light-headed, dizzily trying to come to terms with the events that had just transpired. And then, unceremoniously, he was dropped onto the floor.

He was left like that, curled up beneath his equipment, hands still tied far to tightly. Fabron wheezed weakly, trying to catch his breath and failing miserably. His body felt weak, and his mind weaker. He just wanted to curl up and fall asleep, to pretend he’d been in control of the situation, despite how much that lack of control _ turned him on. _

He wasn’t surprised Wesker left him without a word.

Their next meeting, perhaps things would go differently. Deep down, he knew that wouldn’t be the case.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to do this since I saw the announcement, but didn't have the guts/motivation. But... here it is! Enjoy ;u;


End file.
